


Rare

by divagonzo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, In honor of March 14th, Not a poly situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 09:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6233371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagonzo/pseuds/divagonzo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron's been on a mission for a fortnight and finally comes home to find that it's a little known holiday and Hermione's ready to celebrate. Too bad it's not quite a national holiday, she comes to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rare

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Since it’s 12am in the UK, I feel no remorse posting this. For those of you in Blackpool, this is rated NC-21, for a whole citrus grove of smut. My apologies to my Ace fans. Y’all can go read Jerk Bangers which I posted earlier, here, Tumblr and FF.net.

* * *

Ron threw down his quill, spilling the ink in the bottle on his desk. “Well that was a bloody waste of shift, if you ask me.”

“Nobody asked you, Ron.” Harry kept writing but gave away his mirth with the smirk on his face. 

Ron looked across his desk at Harry, sitting all smug in his chair with it cleared of paperwork. He pulled a face and Harry laughed. 

“I can’t help it you never learned how to spell your name right.” Harry stacked the last piece of parchment in his outbox. 

“I did spell it right. But damn it if Smythe said I got the details wrong and cocked up the entire report.” 

“So you spent the entire shift re-writing six feet of parchment rather than using magic to fix it?” 

“I had to,” he whined. “I used a dict-a-quill while on the mission and it cocked up the entire thing. You’d think it was a Weasley joke quill, it was dictated so poorly.” 

“Are you sure it wasn’t one? I’d expect Smythe or some other git to pull a prank on you, to get you in a bind with Robards.” 

“It wasn’t. I know George’s products. That wasn’t it. Maybe the charm wore off. Maybe it was badly charmed. I dunno but I binned it when I got back from the ass chewing from Robards.” 

“Well, sorry you got stuck on shit duty.” 

“Eh, what can you do, huh, ‘cept re-write bloody reports to be handed into the Director? We are still juniors so we get the dung duty.” 

Harry glanced around the bustling department and saw no one was paying them any attention. He leaned over his desk, trying to be quiet. “You think we’ll be official Aurors before we retire?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure of it. We just have to enjoy our suffering for the time being.” 

“Alright you sods. Shift’s over,” Robards voice echoed through the department at half four in the morning. They collected their things in their ruck and made their way to the lifts. They stepped into the lift and worked their way to the very empty fireplaces in the Ministry atrium. The only benefit of being Aurors was that there was no queue to take a Floo home to Grimmauld Place. 

“So are you going to the match this weekend?” 

“Of course I am. Ginny would turn me into a rug if I missed the Puddlemere match.” 

“You enjoy it. Maybe I’ll send George along.” 

Harry stepped into the Floo. “I’ll start a kettle in the kitchen.” Harry disappeared in a swirl of green flames. 

“Wonder if Hermione is awake yet?” Ron swirled away and landed in the fireplace at Grimmauld Place. He used his wand do pull all the ash off his cloak before stowing it on the stand next to the fireplace. 

Harry was standing there putting his cloak back on. “Where are you going?” 

“Holyhead. Ginny stayed in the flat up there after practice and asked me to come for breakfast. I’ll see you tonight.” Harry grabbed a handful of powder and yelled the destination, swirling away with minimal fanfare. 

“Git. Probably didn’t even start that kettle.” 

“No, but I did.” 

Ron spun around and pointed his wand at the doorway to the stairs leading to the kitchen. Hermione stood in the doorway wearing one of his white dress shirts – and it appeared nothing else. 

“Please tell me that specky git didn’t see your legs like that?” 

“Of course not,” Hermione twirled the wand in her fingers nonchalantly. “But I started tea and your dinner is under a warming charm.” 

“Dinner? But it’s half four in the morning and you look – “

“Like a witch missing her wizard who had been gone for a fortnight on a mission and hadn’t been home yet.” 

“Well, there’s that. I did come home – “

“Only long enough for a shower and a change of pants while I was working.” 

“Well, I had to beg to get that. But I’m off a couple until Monday now since the paperwork is now filed.” 

“That’s good. And now we can celebrate the holiday properly.” 

“Holiday?” 

“Well, yes. See, Angelina and Fleur mentioned today is a holiday and I should do something to show my appreciation for the wizard in my life. So I am.” 

“Holiday?” 

Hermione blushed magnificently. “I figured you knew about it but you look completely boggled.” 

“Shit. They pranked you. I’m going to strangle George, the git.” 

“Angelina and Fleur wouldn’t do that to me, would they?” 

“No, not intentionally. I heard George talking about it on Valentine’s Day at work. He said that guys should have their own holiday about a month later after Valentine’s Day, you know, for the blokes. And instead of flowers and chocolates and jewelry, it should be something like a steak and a blow job and a day’s worth of quiet.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said in a small voice. “But from both of them?” 

“Knowing my brothers,” Ron grimaced, “they’d say it was some bloody international holiday to get them to buy into it.” 

“Well, I think it’s a good idea.” 

“You do?” 

Hermione looked at her wand. “It’s not like I’m disagreeable to the idea. I think it’s a load of rubbish about Valentine’s Day, really.” 

“You do?” 

“I’d rather spend the day with you than worry about chocolates which I barely eat, flowers which are completely over-priced and die within a couple of days, and dinner reservations in crowded restaurants that are not worth the galleons being asked for. But this,” she waved at herself, “that’s my kind of holiday, really. We don’t have to get dressed up or go anywhere. You get dinner out of it and possibly sex for me, too. What’s not to like?” 

“You mean that? I mean,” he tried to hide his grin, “you know I don’t expect you to –“

“I know you don’t, Ron. But if that’s a simple gesture to provide some contentment on such a day, why not?” 

“So what’s the catch? You’re not this practical when it comes to doing such things.” 

“It makes sense. Dinner is under a warming charm. I got it last night for you. It’s a steak, ginger carrots, and a jacketed potato. And I’m game for giving you such pleasure,” she turned tomato red at the thought, “during dinner or in the comfort of our own bedroom.” 

“Dinner and a shag? Does it have to be in that order? ‘Cause I’d rather take you upstairs now and have my way with you.” His trousers were quite uncomfortable already. 

She grinned and he smirked back. “Who says it has to be in the bedroom? Harry and Ginny are off this morning. I figure a romp in the kitchen might be fun.” 

Ron stepped up to his girlfriend and pulled her downcast chin up, looking at her bright red cheeks and flush down her throat. “And you’re secretly worried that Harry and Ginny will return while we’re indisposed?” 

“They did catch us the last time.” 

“Want to lock the kitchen while we’re busy?” 

Hermione nodded. “That and the rest. I’d hate anyone else to barge in too.” 

Ron took her hand in his and led the way to the kitchen. He stopped inside the doorway and locked the door, followed by sealing it and silencing the door. “Better, dear?” 

“Yes, it is. Now, you want dinner first or me? 

“You’re adorable, you know that? Absolutely adorable.” He kissed her gently. “How about this… let’s get me out of the way first, then I fuck you into the table, then we have dinner and a bit of a kip. How does that sound?” 

Hermione reached for his jumper and within moments, was stripped down to his vest and pants. “Um, how do -“

Ron sat on the table top and put his feet up on the bench. “Now sit between my feet. That probably will be the most comfortable position, I reckon.” 

“Thought about it a bit, huh?” 

“Nope. I’m the bloke who loves to fuck you so fucking much so it’s not a bit. But I’m thinking of your knees and bum on this cold floor.” Ron moved his feet where Hermione could sit between his feet and knees on the bench. 

“About your pants,” she ran her hands up and down his long legs, feeling the ginger hairs under her fingertips. “I could just banish them away but I know you like these pants.” 

“Here,” He lifted his bum from the wood and she slid them down his legs and off his feet. Sure enough, his impressive manhood stood ready, craving her attention and affections. 

“Charming,” she cheeked. 

“It’s been two weeks, Hermione. And with Smythe there, it’s not like I can wank in the tent.” 

She leaned forward and took a delicate lick on the knob. 

“Shit, that’s bloody amazing.” His hands went to her head, gently holding it back from her face and out of the way of her movements. Holding her head during a knob job made the experience more intense, he found out early on. 

Hermione settled in between his knees and started working in earnest. She stroked his length and felt him shudder. 

“Fuck! That’s it! Use that swotty mouth for something good. Suck it!” 

Hermione continued to work his length, including fondling his bollocks in her deft hands. 

“Fuck! I missed you doing this!” 

Hermione didn’t bother to look up but knew what she’d see if she did: pure adoration and love on his face. She swirled her tongue around the bell and heard his swearing starting to break into partial epithets. 

She released him with a grin and saw his eyes rolling around his head. “Come for me, love.” She went back to her task and felt his body starting to quiver in pleasure. 

“Hermione, I’m -“

She pulled back slightly and sucked on him hard. He froze for a moment before groaning loud enough to be heard in Hampstead Gardens. She pulled back from him and saw him grinning like he’d been confunded. 

“You’re bloody amazing, you are.” 

She smiled back. “Now let’s get you some dinner.” 

Ron reached for her and caught her hand in his. “I’d rather have you and then dinner.” 

“Already hungry?” 

“You know I’ll never turn down seconds.” 

Hermione wedged her way away from him and stepped back from the bench. “So how do you want to do this?” 

Ron stepped down from the table and Hermione sucked in her breath through pursed lips. 

“What?” He sat down on the bench, knees spread and hips sitting forward. 

“I missed you,” Hermione stepped between his knees and bent over to kiss him deeply. She broke the kiss when his long fingers worked through the buttons of his shirt and touched her skin softly. “And I missed this.” 

Ron refused to look anywhere else except her face while he lifted the starched cotton shirt from her shoulders and dropped it off her back. Words flowed silently between the two, renewing promises made in the heat of battle and the cold of the night. 

Hermione broke the spell first, moving her hands from his broad shoulders into his hair. “You washed it at the Ministry, didn’t you?” 

“How can you tell?” His eyes never left her face. 

“I can tell because it doesn’t feel right.” She ran her hands through his hair, making it stand up all over the place. He groaned in appreciation. 

“Ron, you can look at me.” 

“I am.” 

Hermione took his hands from her waist and moved them to her abdomen. “There’s more to me than just my face.” 

“I know. But I’m appreciating your face, too. Having a centered nose is quite important to me, I reckon.” 

Hermione broke out in giggles immediately before she moaned in appreciation when his hands found her bereft breasts. “Took you long enough to find them,” she cheeked. 

“Oy!” Ron spun her around and plonked her down on his lap. His hands started exploring her willing body. “I think I need to find other places on you right now, right?” 

Hermione leaned back onto Ron, feeling wanton with her position on her lover and best friend. “Yes, please. I don’t even bother when you’re not home. It’s not the same.” 

His hands found her breasts and he worked them over while kissing her neck just how she preferred. “Yes, please!” she begged. He nibbled on the delicate flesh of her neck while his calloused fingertips drove her spare, from her breasts down to her engorged flesh of her slit. He brushed delicately before returning to her breasts. 

“You know,” he sucked on her neck, “I could do this for an hour.” 

“Don’t tease me that way.” 

He rubbed her nipples to rock hard nubs. “Who says I’m teasing? You were brilliant,” he whispered into her skin where her neck met collarbones, “and I want you to fall apart before I have my way with you.” Ron kissed along the sides of her neck while rubbing a breast. He switched back and forth between them, enjoying the breathy moans of pleasure erupting from her. 

Hermione’s breath hitched and he felt her shudder for a moment before she froze. He pinched the hard nub under his fingertips and nibbled again on her neck. 

“Ron,” she groaned in bliss while he felt her come apart under his hands. He felt her release on his thighs and felt the smug grin plaster on his face immediately. 

One hand drifted along the skin of her abdomen into the curly hair on her mons. Long fingers found delicate flesh begging for his attention. He found what he was feeling for and she quivered violently in his arms. 

“Still want me?” He wiggled his hips, letting her feel is very impatient member bouncing on her arse. 

“Yes, I need you.” Her whisper broke through her continued panting on his lap. 

He shifted on the bench, wishing he’d put a cushioning charm down but no matter now. He slid forward slightly and gently thrust upward, finding her welcoming warmth. 

“Ron!” He held still a moment while she wiggled to get comfortable. 

“You still take the potion, right?” 

“I did. I also did the spell on you when you were not looking.” 

“Bloody brilliant you are,” he thrust up again and pressed the bundle of nerves inside her delicate flesh. 

“Oh yes,” she yelled. 

“Ready to fall apart? I dunno about you, but I could eat a Hippogriff soon.” 

Hermione put her feet on the floor and her hands on his hips and lifted off him slightly before slamming back down on his very willing cock. 

“Fuck, that’s it. Take it all. Drain me dry, love.” 

She held on while he thrust up. “I need,” she panted out, “I need –“

“Stay with me, love. I owe you a couple anyway.” Ron’s hand found the nub above where they were joined and began rubbing softly. 

“Oh fuck,” she whispered. “Keep going!” Hermione shifted forward, putting her hands on Ron’s legs and moving them closer together. She sat up tall on his hips before changing the pace of her thrusts on his member, going slower. 

“Yes, that’s it. Use your hands too!” 

She continued to go slow while grinding her hips. Ron moved his hands from her hips to her breasts and mons, using the slickness of her skin to enhance his touch. She moved slowly while he praised her with crass words, rubbing on her body wherever she needed. He’d worship every inch of her if it gave her the pleasure and joy she deserved. 

Hermione shifted slightly and Ron heard a gasp and felt her start to shudder. 

“That’s it, love. Keep going. Come for me.” 

Hermione froze and Ron felt the orgasm grip his cock first before one long inarticulate moan escaped her lips. She gripped down on his thighs and length, squeezing him hard enough make him barely hold on. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron growled back and thrust up hard and felt Hermione fall apart around him. He thrust thrice more, feeling the band grow impossibly tight before snapping hard. 

Ron fell back and bumped his back on the edge of the table while Hermione fell forward and caught herself on his knees. Neither of them moved while they caught their breath from their evocative lovemaking. 

“Alright there?” 

Hermione moved and while Ron lamented the loss of intimate warmth, he was glad to see Hermione’s lovely eyes, so bright and warm. “That was amazing,” she muttered into his skin while she reclined against his chest. He felt her shudder every now and then when he rubbed his hands up and down her sweaty back. 

“Maybe I should get that steak for you now.” She didn’t bother to move. 

“In a minute. Maybe we can kip here a spell.” Ron opened his eyes and saw Hermione wearing a bright smile. “Or maybe you have something else in mind.” 

“You might be ready for a kip but I’m hungry. And I want some tea or coffee.” 

“But not yet, right? We’re sharing ourselves, shagged out and stupid. Isn’t that what the birds want?” 

Hermione quirked an eyebrow and Ron grinned. “I’m not a bird, Ron.” 

“No, you’re a vicious canary with me in her beak willingly.” 

She swatted him on the shoulder and stood up from his lap. She walked to the stove top to start a kettle. While she moved demurely, including stretching up on her toes to get the parcel of tea, Ron whistled. 

“Are you looking at my bum?” 

“Well, yeah. It’s better to look at than steak. And from where I’m sitting, it looks very rare. In fact, it might be the only one of its kind.” 

She turned and Ron whistled again. “I reckon I have a rare gift: your love.”

Hermione set the kettle down on the table, next to the plate of dinner. “I love you too. Now share that dinner since I’m famished too.”


End file.
